[Frontispiece: LUCY AND BRADGET O'BRADY] TIMID LUCY by Sarah Schoonmaker Baker "FEAR NOT, LITTLE FLOCK." LONDON: JOHN MORGAN, 10, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1862 LONDON: ROBERT K. BURT, PRINTER, HOLBORN HILL. CONTENTS. CHAP. I.--The Little Bed-room II.--The Thunder-shower III.--The Medicine IV.--An Announcement V.--The Arrival VI.--An Accident VII.--Sunday Morning VIII.--Staying at Home IX.--The King and his Weapons X.--The Happy Sunday Evening XI.--Judy M'Grath XII.--The Visitor XIII.--Sickness XIV.--Conclusion TIMID LUCY. CHAPTER I. THE LITTLE BED-ROOM. Dr. Vale had the prettiest house in all Chatford. It was a tasteful, white cottage, with a green lawn in front, and tall elm trees about it. The side windows looked out upon a pleasant orchard, where the smooth, ripe apples peeped temptingly from their beds of fresh leaves. At one of these windows there was a neat curtain, that was looped back one summer evening, while through the open casement there floated the perfume of the rose bush that had climbed the cottage wall, until its buds could look in at the upper window. A pretty sight there was within! the moonlight streamed on the floor, and lit up as sweet a little bed-room as any fairy could desire. The small counterpane and bureau-cover were white as snow, on the tiny work-table there was a vase of fresh flowers, and the miniature book-case was filled with an interesting collection of nicely-bound volumes. There was nothing wanting to give the apartment an air of perfect taste and comfort. Did the young owner enjoy that pleasant room? Young she must have been, for everything, even to the low rocking-chair, was evidently prepared for the use of some favoured child. Presently the door opened, but no one entered. Lucy Vale, the doctor's youngest daughter, stood timidly without. Surely there was nothing frightful in that quiet room? yet she did not venture in until the light was so steady that she could see plainly into its farthest corners. As soon, as she had locked the door behind her, she looked into the closet, behind the curtain, under the bed, and even under the bureau, where nothing thicker than a turtle could possibly have hidden itself. There had not been a robbery in the peaceful village of Chatford in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, so there was no danger of Lucy's disturbing any villain in his hiding-place. If she had chanced to find the thief she seemed so earnestly seeking, she would have been in a most unfortunate position, as her bed-room door was locked, and, without any weapon, her feeble arm would have been but poor protection.